


The Wooing of Adam Milligan

by Uncontinuous (nights_fang)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Fluff, M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nights_fang/pseuds/Uncontinuous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The many ways Castiel tries to woo Adam Milligan, and how it goes wrong every time. Written for ravenspear on comment_fic, for the prompt: Supernatural; Castiel/Adam, Dean, Sam; Castiel attempts to woo Adam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wooing of Adam Milligan

It starts with flowers. Roses to be precise.

No seriously, of all things, _roses_.

Adam wakes up with a bunch of white fucking wild roses next to him, right in front of his face They have to be wild, because there's no way cultivated roses could look like _that_ , no matter what gardeners juice them with. Big, fucking huge actually, and short stemmed, and really pretty.

Adam's allergic flowers. Especially _roses_.

He ends up sneezing up a fucking storm. And by the time he calms down enough to trash the things, and wash up, his face is blotchy, and he looks like Rudolf the fucking reindeer of a human. At least that's what Dean tells him while laughing at his face. Sam at least is kind enough to not laugh at his face and hands Adam coffee and sandwiches they picked from the diner for him.

There's a reason Adam likes Sam better than Dean. Sam is the best giant moose of a big half brother ever.

The next time it's carnations, which Adam _hates_. Then come the Bell-flowers and Asters. Then a bunch of more flowers all meaning different variations of love. Dean of course rolls his eyes at Bobby, Sam, and Adam and at the fact that they know this shit. Which of course explains to Adam why Dean probably never had a long term girlfriend.

Adam spends most of the next few mornings trashing each bouquet with extreme prejudice – well all except the bouquet of lilacs and tulips because those were mom's favourite – and walking around with a runny, red, near clown nose.

“They are a traditional gift of courtship.” Castiel explains apologetically while thankfully healing Adam's congestion so that he can breathe like a normal human again.

Adam throws the latest bouquet at him.

-

The pie would be a nice gesture. Actually it _is_ a really nice gesture. It looks and smells amazing. Castiel made it.

Except all that supposedly tasty gooey red filling reminds Adam of not so nice memories, and monsters that impersonated his mom, and the time he spent holding his own insides in a tiny coffin. Like he said, not so nice memories. He ends up spending the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom, puking up and trying to force himself into forgetting those mental images.

Adam would yell bloody murder at the angel, but it's obvious that Castiel honestly _didn't mean it_. (Even though Adam suspects it sometimes. After all the angel molotoved him, and left him in the Cage. Yes, he's still pissed about that. He has every right to be.)

Apparently the pie was fucking delicious, Dean tells him later, and Adam has to remind himself that Dean is a _Hunter_ and so any attempt at physical violence against him would only result in Adam landing painfully on his ass. So instead he stalks off back to the room he sleeps in at Bobby's and curses his existence like an emo kid.

-

Waking up to dead stuffed animals in your bed will never, _ever_ be okay. Not in a million years.

“Dean said stuffed animals always work.”

“I meant the toys Cas. Not this.”

“Oh.” Castiel's eyes went comically wide, and Adam would laugh if he weren't the guy who woke up face to face with the beady eyes of someone's stuffed dog. After his first death and the Cage, he already had enough nightmare fuel to last him for the next few thousand lifetimes. He didn't need anyone adding to it.

Thank God Sam was coming up to wake him up anyway. Adam would've probably hurt himself panicking and trying to get away from the thing after just getting up.

When Castiel actually leaves, thank someone for that because it was getting seven different kinds of awkward with him around, Adam turns on Dean, wondering why in the fucking world would he be interested in setting them up.

“Cas is weird and stuff, but he's Cas. He's not a douche like the rest of the feathered dicks.”

Which might be true in Dean's case but it's a sucky explanation, because Dean tends to forget Castiel left him in the Cage. That's not the kind of thing you get over easily. So yeah actually liking the guy enough to date him, is out of the question.

-

 

Okay maybe the exotic chocolates for the next few days might make Adam reconsider. That and the really fucking sincere apologetic look those blue eyes sport when Castiel hands them to him.

They're tasty. Eventually though Adam gets sick form constant chocolate, and he can't being himself to be annoyed at Castiel for it. Especially when Castiel insists on healing him.

It's fucking unfair. Really fucking unfair.

-

Adam's doing some simple research for Bobby, while the old hunter is out buying groceries, when a dizzying headache hits him. They've been getting worst with the coming days, and making him more irritable.

He really just needs to sneak himself to the nearest optician and get glasses or lenses. Whoever got him out, and fixed him, just brought him back to his original state; not brand spanking new. Which meant he was still short sighted. While Adam can manage a good near hundred percent of the time, it really sucked when he needed to read incredibly tiny font, like the one he's just been reading. He can't keep borrowing Bobby's glasses forever. Bobby's prescription is much more than his, and Dean and Sam keep forgetting about to take him. Seriously if they don't, they can take their paranoia and need to keep Adam house arrested – “safe” in their words – and shove it, because Adam's eyes are giving him Hell.

“I brought this for you. I thought it would be of use.” He's leaning against the chair, head tilted backwards, pinching the bridge of his nose when Castiel appears. And seriously, he is so not in the mood to deal with the angel, or anyone, right now.

That is until he takes a look at exactly what's in Castiel's hand, and blinks, because for a moment he's sure he's seeing things. Big, blocky, kinda ancient looking. Hell, it still has tiny initials Adam had scratched into it the moment he officially inherited them once mom changed the lenses to his prescription, because his grandpa's had been too high.

“Are those my glasses?” because if they are, Adam might just _kiss_ Castiel. Adam doesn't care if they're old man glasses. They were his grandpa's and he _loves_ them.

Castiel nods, a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, as he hands them to Adam.

Maybe the angel isn't so bad after all.

-

Okay so maybe the little knick-knacks which Adam learns are various talismans that ward off the supernatural are cool. And useful. At least some of them are.

Adam's not sure he's ever going to need a blessed sword from Arthurian times. Or Merlin's staff, even though Sam and Bobby both have their own versions of nerdgasms at that. (He has one too, but that's going to be a secret he takes to his grave.)

But Adam isn't looking to start a collection. And if Castiel gets any more of them, Bobby might have to make a new shed to store them in.

-

Castiel had actually thought of serenading him. He got the idea from a movie.

Adam contemplates banging his head to mush on Bobby's sturdy desk.

-

  


  
Adam likes the books. This time Castiel has clearly done his homework because Adam has a nice well kept old First Edition copy of Orwell's _1984_ – so Adam's favourite book is about a creepy totalitarian society, Sam and Dean can shove it – on his night stand. He's already re read it a couple of time since it first appeared.

[Castiel had also tried reading it to him (on someone's suggestion, Adam's not sure _who_ ) and Adam had to put a stop to that before things got weird. Sure, he may really like the book but he's pretty certain the narration isn't supposed to sound like audio erotica. And he's pretty sure thinking about the words erotic with reference to an angel is a sin. Adam doesn't want to go to Hell again.]

And the advanced anatomy books are fucking amazing.

The ones suggested by Balthazar though, those go straight into Bobby's fireplace.

But the thing is while Adam likes books, you can have too much of a good thing. And Bobby already has interesting stuff to read without Castiel adding to it. Bobby's also running out of space, and well it's kind of getting ridiculous.

But still, books. Castiel's on the right track.

-

Castiel sucks at love letters.

No, seriously he _sucks_ at it. Adam's not sure what they're supposed to be, but it's definitely not romantic. They're definitely _something_ , but not romantic.

Then the notes start quoting poetry. _Poetry_.

“Maybe I should've suggested the actual books to him as well.” Sam says reading one of the newer notes. Adam stares at him for a good two minutes, which makes Sam squirm and give him his moose-like apologetic smile. Great, now _he_ was in on it too. Adam just... keeps mentally shaking his head, wondering when his life turned into a sitcom.

Dean, of course, being Dean, has a blast reading them out loud. Even Sam and Bobby laugh at them.

And okay, maybe it's going a bit too far, because while they're bad, they aren't _that_ bad. For Castiel at least. Nothing in Adam's opinion can top the dead dog.

  
Then Castiel apparently asks Balthazar for tips.

Adam takes it back. The notes top them.

Yes those ones are _that_ bad. ~~And Adam will never be able to look at Castiel's tie in an innocent manner _ever_ again.~~

-

Castiel actually writes him a note in Newspeak. _Newspeak._ Which he then proceeds to _recite_ in that gravelly low voice of his.

Fuck everything. Adam's in love.


End file.
